Shades of Luck
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Harry has a bad feeling about tonight's Occlumency lesson, considering how unlucky he currently is. Will things improve for the fifth year? AU, OOC... Just a pointless drabble that my muse came up with :P


**Shades of Luck  
****by Healer Pomfrey****  
**

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.  
I am not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes._

* * *

Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, doing his homework together with Hermione and Ron. However, he just couldn't concentrate. He took his glasses off, fiercely rubbing his left eye, only to notice how dirty his glasses were. Absentmindedly using his T-shirt to clean his glasses, he glanced over to Hermione, who was feverishly attacking her parchment with a quill. '_I should write my Potions essay as well_,' Harry mused as he pushed his glasses back onto his nose, letting out a long sigh. Glancing over to the fireplace, he noticed that Seamus and Dean were discussing something, and Neville seemed to be listening with interest.

'_They're lucky_,' Harry thought, feeling the headache that had been bothering him since the morning worsen by the minute. '_They have neither detention with Umbridge, nor do they have these horrible lessons with Snape_.'

"Harry, what's wrong? Are you sick?" Hermione suddenly asked, looking at him in concern.

"No, I'm fine," Harry replied, sighing. _'Just unlucky,'_ he thought in annoyance.

"What is it, Harry? You know that you can tell me everything," the girl insisted, causing Harry to groan inwardly.

"It's just… I have Occlumency class tonight, and I just have a bad feeling about the matter. That's all. It's probably only my imagination. Just ignore me," Harry whispered quickly, causing Ron to gape at him with a blank expression.

"What?" he asked unintelligently.

"Nothing," Harry replied in annoyance. "I'm sorry," he apologized to Hermione. "I don't know why, but I'm just in a very bad mood today. No particular reason."

'_The two of them dating doesn't help to improve my mood_,' he thought in annoyance as he observed Ron kissing Hermione. '_How can Hermione want to be together with him for the rest of her life? Let something happen and he gets jealous, and he doesn't understand anything about people's feelings. Oh well, I'll just have to get used to it_.' He let out a long sigh, not noticing that Hermione continued to observe him in concern.

**_Ten hours later..._**

"How dare you enter the Pensieve and watch my personal memories?" Snape shouted, sprain spitting from his mouth.

"I'm sorry," Harry said in a small voice, feeling absolutely miserable of the scene he had just observed in the Pensieve. '_I didn't know that my father and Sirius were such bullies_,' he thought in shock.

"Sorry is not enough," the professor hissed in his rage, grabbing the first thing he was able to reach on the nearest shelf. Before he knew what he was doing, he threw the small phial towards the boy in the heat of the moment. Only the shattering of the delicate glass as it made contact to the boy's head caused him to realize what he had done.

Angry enough to ignore the matter, he sent the boy out. "OUT OF HERE! NOW!" he shouted, waving his wand to shut the door when the boy hurried out not a second too early.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

Harry slowly returned to Gryffindor, so deep engrossed in his dark thoughts about his father and godfather that he only noticed when he entered the common room that his headache had become much worse. He quickly signalled Hermione and Ron that he would go straight to bed and retired to the dormitory. Of course his friends came after him and sat on the edge of his bed as soon as he scrambled under the covers.

"Harry, what's wrong? Did something happen during Occlumency?" Hermione asked worriedly, giving him a sharp look.

"Yeah. Snape was called out, and there was the Pensieve on his desk, and I thought... I just thought I could find out what Dumbledore is hiding from me," Harry blurted out.

"And?" Hermione asked softly.

"Snape came back and saw me, and he got really angry," Harry explained in a small voice. "I'm going to sleep. I've a terrible headache."

"What did you see in the Pensieve, mate?" Ron threw in curiously.

"That can wait until tomorrow," Hermione said gently, soothingly patting Harry's arm. "Good night, Harry. Sleep well."

"Night," Harry mumbled, already drifting off to sleep.

**_Twenty hours later..._**

Harry was sitting in Professor Umbridge's office for his umpteenth detention, noticing in shock that his hand hurt much more than usual when he had to use the strange quill. He gritted his teeth and tried to not let a sound come out of his mouth; however, after writing for about two hours, the pain became so unbearable that he simply blacked out. He fell from the chair, unconscious, knocking his head on the floor.

"Stupid boy," Umbridge groaned in annoyance as she levitated him out of her office and into the hospital wing, placing him roughly on the first bed, before she hurriedly returned to her office.

It was nearly midnight when Madam Pomfrey noticed the unconscious boy. Immediately turning into Healer's mode, she hurriedly cast a diagnostic spell that showed her that he had an injured hand and a splitting headache. "Enervate," she said, causing Harry to stir. "Welcome to the world of the living, Mr. Potter," she said softly, quickly pressing a phial against his lips as he moaned in agony.

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully, noticing that the potion only helped so much. "What happened?"

"That's what I'd like to ask you, Mr. Potter. A few minutes ago, I found you unconscious in this bed."

"I was in Umbridge's office writing lines," Harry slowly recalled, showing his hand to the Mediwitch, who let out a huge gasp.

"She makes you use a blood quill?" she asked in shock.

"I'm not sure what it is," Harry replied and began to explain about his detentions.

"Mr. Potter, I'm sorry, but I have to report this. I'm going to call your Head of House as well as the Headmaster. Professor Umbridge will probably receive a one-way ticket to Azkaban because of this. Try to stay awake for a moment, please." With that the Healer bustled away, returning a few minutes later with Dumbledore and McGonagall in tow.

The professors asked Harry several questions, which he had to answer again for the Aurors, whom Dumbledore hurriedly called, so that they could take Professor Umbridge into custody.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

Madam Pomfrey kept Harry in the hospital wing until dinnertime, claiming that he had been unconscious for an unknown time, that his hand needed to be bathed in Murtlap essence for a few more hours, and that he shouldn't attend classes with the tremendous headache that refused to go away with her pain relieving potions.

'_At least Umbridge ended up in Azkaban_,' Harry mused as he slowly trailed down to the Great Hall. '_I'm not hungry, but I have to show up, so Hermione won't freak out_,' he thought, taking a seat next to his friends. However, his headache was so bad that he couldn't eat anything and instead slowly dragged himself down to the dungeons, hesitantly knocking at the door of the Potions Master's office.

"Potter," the professor spat. "What do you think you're doing here? Did you not do enough harm by watching memories that do not concern you?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir," Harry said politely. "I believe that I already apologized for watching your memories. I merely wanted to enquire about the potion that hit me the day before yesterday."

"Do you want to complain to the Headmaster, trying to get another professor sacked?" Snape hissed through gritted teeth, and Harry slowly backed up as the professor's long nose came nearer and nearer.

"Professor, I am not a bully like my father apparently was, and I see no reason to let the Headmaster in on this. However, since the potion you threw at me is causing me pain, I'd like to ask you for the antidote," Harry replied firmly.

"Was Madam Pomfrey not able to give you the antidote?" Snape sneered, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't ask her, because I thought no one had to know about the matter. It was merely something between you and me, sir," Harry said quietly.

Snape looked sharply at the boy, who was forcefully rubbing his forehead. '_He is nothing like his father. He could have gotten me into Azkaban for what I did to him_,' he realised. He summoned a phial from his shelf and handed it to Harry. "One dose might not be enough," he said evenly without any malice in his voice. "If you need another dose tomorrow, come to my office before breakfast or after dinner."

"Thank you Professor," Harry said gratefully after swallowing the dark green liquid. "Good night."

"Good night, Mr. Potter. You seem to be very much alike your mother," Snape added in a barely audible voice, uncertain if the small smile that began to play on the boy's lips as he left the room was real or was just his imagination.

**_Twenty hours later..._**

_'I really need at least one more dose of the antidote,'_ Harry mused as he returned to his dormitory and let himself sink on his bed after the last afternoon class. _'However, I'm not really up to going to Snape again. Bad enough that Hermione and Ron were in such a bad mood today. I wonder what happened between them.'_

"Harry, are you feeling all right?" Hermione queried in apparent concern, as she entered the dormitory and stepped over to his bedside.

"Just a bit of a headache," Harry replied, sighing.

Hermione shook her head in annoyance. "Harry, you've had this headache for days now," she said, quickly extending a cold hand to his forehead. "You feel a bit warm," she stated, reproachfully.

"I'm fine," Harry informed her, annoyed at the unnecessary fuss.

"Well, then maybe you should get up and work on our homework together with me," the girl said, smirking.

"Sorry, I don't feel so well," Harry admitted in a small voice. "My head hurts too much."

Sighing, Hermione pulled a tissue out of her robe pocket and transfigured it into a thermometer. Holding the glassy stick out to Harry, she instructed him to take his temperature.

"What happened between you and Ron?" Harry whispered before he grudgingly complied, knowing that this was the only way to get at least some peace and quiet for a while.

"I separated from him," the girl admitted in a soft voice. "I can't tolerate his jealousy and above all I realised that it's not him with whom I'm in love. I don't know why I made such a mistake." She quietly caressed his flushed cheeks, noticing that he seemed to relax and leaned into her cold touch. "You have a slight fever," she said, taking the thermometer back. "Are you sure that you don't want me to take you to the hospital wing?"

"Yes sure," Harry replied, giving the girl a weak smile. "I'm going to get a potion for my headache from Snape right after dinner. Madam Pomfrey can't help me with that."

"Oh all right," Hermione said in understanding. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

_'Just stay with me, don't take your cool hands away, and become my girlfriend,'_ Harry thought, unaware of the fact that he accidentally voiced his thoughts.

"I'd love to become your girlfriend, Harry," Hermione replied, smiling, before she leaned over and pulled him into a long kiss.

_'My luck really seems to improve recently,'_ Harry mused, as he happily replied to the kiss, _'With Umbridge gone, Snape realising that I'm not my father, and Hermione becoming my girlfriend, I'm the happiest boy in the world.'_

**THE END**


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